


Grow Close Grow Fond

by Seagoatink



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Professor Shenanigans, Spoilers, Warm-Up Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-23 14:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20341483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seagoatink/pseuds/Seagoatink
Summary: The new professor isn't expressive, but she does feel.Spoilers for Flayn & Seteth's Paralogue, Chapter 6, Chapter 9 (I think?)





	1. Infirmary

The infirmary was jam packed and bustling, not something Seteth could easily ignore had he wanted to. But he had no such desire, as Manuela could be heard from down the hall. She was attempting to address Flayn, Flayn who had been missing for the full month. 

Organizing office papers could wait. Nothing would stop him from bursting into the infirmary to see Flayn, and nothing did. He waited beside her as medical officers came and went. 

They tended to the others as well. Manuela and a student from the previous year who was thought to have run away, Monica, took up other beds and received attention too. It wasn't long until they were all excused to their rooms in order to make space for students returning from battle.

So Seteth, caring as ever, pulled Flayn into his arms and carried her to her room. He tucked her into bed, and whispered thanks and relief in her ear. Though she was barely awake, he felt it would bring her comfort, just as knowing she was safe brought him peace. He waited for her to finish stirring to snuff the bedside candle and close the door to leave. 

As soon as that was finished, Seteth returned to the infirmary to find a few remaining students as well as Jeralt, Byleth, and Alois. Without a doubt they had retrieved a few stragglers from the labyrinth that snaked from Jaritza's room and entrusted them to the infirmary. Seteth resolved to stand just inside the room and wait for a report. With all the noise, he wouldn't be able to finish any organizing whether he wanted to or not.

Soon, Alois and a few soldiers were trusted with the task of escorting the remaining students to their rooms. This left Jeralt and his daughter enough privacy to comfortably converse for the first time since entering the infirmary.

Byleth moved to a cot as it was her turn to receive medical attention. She shrugged off her coat to reveal a rather nasty gash just below her ribs as well as a few scrapes here and there. 

Her father balked at the sight. "You should have had that taken care of first," he said pointedly, as any concerned father would. "Doesn't it hurt?"

The new professor nodded in the affirmative. "A lot," she replied, much to Seteth's surprise. After all, her face still carried a blank expression rather than a look of pain.

"You can't keep doing that you know. Whatever the reason may be," Jeralt, ever the voice of reason, chided. Somehow he never sounded harsh in his words. Only watchful and caring, but not purely concerned. The two were seasoned mercenaries accustomed to injuries from scraps.

Again, Byleth nodded. "I didn't want to worry the students," she reasoned flatly. Her response earned merit by Seteth’s standards. 

"Lift your arm, please," instructed the healer beside her.

Byleth followed their instructions and returned her attention to Jeralt. "I know you can handle your own, but don't overdo it for those brats. They need to learn how to stand on their own too," he told her, easily turning the experience into a lecture.

"Linhardt was singled out by an axeman, and Caspar was surrounded. I didn't really have a choice. The students can only do so much," said Byleth, defending herself and the situation that earned her the deep gouge in her gut. 

Jeralt let out a defeated sigh. "I suppose that's true. I can't fault you for that," he said. "Still, I'd hate for something bad to happen to you."

There was the fatherly sentiment Seteth found familiar. Flayn had already found herself in the worst of trouble though. The professor on the other hand was a capable young woman, fighting alongside Fodlan's best. Having taught them herself, she knew when and where she could depend on them too.

Seteth pursed his lips as he thought. As a hardened scowl solidified on his face Alois entered the room. "Captain! The soldiers could use more direction from you!" His booming voice didn't echo, but it rang in Seteth's ears nonetheless.

The captain nodded to Alois. Then he turned back to Byleth for one last fatherly remark.

"I'll be alright," she promised, effectively washing away her father's worries and shooing him off.

Once the healers were finished patching up Byleth’s wounds, Seteth finally left his post by the door to approach her. “I must thank you for your efforts in successfully rescuing Flayn,” he said in his usual pointed tone. 

“No need to thank me, I’m just glad she’s safe,” Byleth replied. She stood from the cot to examine the damage left to her clothing. Perhaps she would have to patch up a hole or two when she found herself with free time. “I suppose while Professor Manuela recovers I will need to take over for a few of her classes.”

Oh yes, Seteth thought, Flayn was not the only one hurt by the Death Knight. Despite that, he found himself ever so grateful of the Professor, for finding Flayn and ensuring her safety. It was not as though he could reveal the true reason he was so thankful, but perhaps in time he would find himself more trusting of her mysterious aura. 

The professor looked up to find Seteth still in front of her in the infirmary, internally debating himself on how much he really should tell Byleth. “I understand you’re grateful. You’ve been fretting yourself sick since Flayn first disappeared.” She paused momentarily to debate her own words. “Which is why it’s important for you to get some rest now.” Byleth placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to console him.

It was not effective, but Seteth knew what she was trying to do. “Yes,” he agreed, “thank you again, Professor.”


	2. Parent-Teacher Conference

When Seteth entrusted Flayn to the professor as her student, he had high hopes and expectations. However, he also thought he was ensuring her safety and distance from certain… Male students. The night following Flayn’s assignment to the stables with Ferdinand, she gleefully told her dear father over dinner how much she had learned from the boy. Needless to say Seteth was fuming.

He did his best to hide it from Flayn, but being his daughter, it was hard to hide such simple emotions in his expression alone. “Please do not bother the professor about this!” She begged with her hands folded together as though in prayer. 

“There will be no debating this, Flayn. It is between the professor and myself now,” he said.

His mind was made up, that was clear. The best Flayn supposed she could do was warn the professor of the storm ahead and her father’s brooding over the topic at hand. She finished eating without a word, then asked to be excused from the table. Because Seteth was busy planning his lecture to Byleth, he allowed her to leave even though he was still eating. 

Later in the week, Flayn managed to get Byleth’s attention and warn her of Seteth. His face had become more and more intense as the week weathered on, and she worried her father was a furious storm soon to wreak havoc on the professor’s life.

But Byleth was not worried in the slightest, much to Flayn’s surprise. “Things will be fine. Continue with your studies and I will take care of the rest,” she promised. A hint of a smile flicked across her face for just a moment and was gone just as fast. 

“I-” Flayn tried to protest, but the professor shot her a look that said, “Do you not trust me?”

Follow up questions reviewing the day’s subjects came and went. Several students went to Byleth for one-on-one conversations before they left the Officer’s Academy to tend to their individual responsibilities. Eventually the professor approached Flayn and the two walked to Seteth’s office together in relative silence. 

The sounds of sparring carried up the stairs with them. Soon chatter filled hallways with the sounds of metal hitting metal faded to the background. More prominent was the sound of the professor’s heels hitting the stone flooring.

Before entering Seteth’s office, Byleth swatted at her cloak, ensuring the fabric was as clean as it could be after a busy day of work. 

Seteth noticed the two in his doorway and smiled at his daughter. “Ah, Flayn! I was wondering when you would be returning from your studies. I see you have brought the professor with you as well.” He rounded his desk and motioned to the table and chairs at the corner of the room. “I suppose it is about time I had a chat with you about Flayn’s studies, Professor.”

Byleth closed the door behind herself. Once she chose her spot at the table, Flayn sat down beside her. Across from them, Seteth took his seat. “It has come to my attention that you have Flayn on stable duty with Ferdinand, this-”

“Brother!”

“This week it will be with Sylvain,” Byleth interrupted.

Ferdinand was bad enough, but Sylvain? Assigning poor Flayn to stable duty with Sylvain was akin to pouring salt on an open wound. She had to have known that. “Professor!?” Though shocked by the news, Seteth protested, “I cannot stand by this decision.”

“It’s a good thing you’re sitting then,” countered the professor. Not a hint of smugness appeared on her face, but Seteth was sure she felt rather smug. Byleth had likely heard Jeralt use the same phrasing before and become keen on using it.

Though thoroughly irked, Seteth held his tongue and waited for another quip from the professor.

“Flayn is my student, as are Ferdinand and Sylvain,” she said pointedly. “Just as she is assigned to stable duties to learn more about riding, so are they -regardless of sex.” There was a moment of silence across the table. “Am I correct in assuming this is about the stable assignments?”

“Indeed, you are,” said Seteth. He chewed on the inside of his lip in thought. There had to be some way for him to come up with a counter-argument that would bring the professor to realize her mistake. Flayn could not study alongside miscreants afterall!

She folded her arms across her chest. "This is not something I am willing to negotiate. Flayn is doing well in her other studies. To further advance her riding skill she will remain on stable duty with her classmates," Byleth said.

The information wasn't new though. What was new was Seteth's enlightenment on who else was assigned to stable duties with Flayn. "You say classmates as though you've assigned Bernadetta to the stables with her!" Seteth argued. Usually he could hold his temper, but he could feel himself grow irate as the conversation continued. “Neither Ferdinand nor Sylvain are fit to work with Flayn. They’d be better suited kicking rocks or fluffing their feathers at one another!”

Beside the professor, Flayn fidgeted. It wasn't often she saw her father in such a tissy, but she didn't like it. "I believe I have work to tend to," she said.

Had Seteth been in a more rational state of mind, he may not have let his daughter run off so easily. He however was quite heated over his argument with the professor and waved Flayn off without a second thought. The door shut with a click behind Flayn and the echoes of her heels quickly faded away. Her escape was a successful one, but Seteth was still out for Byleth. 

When he finally spoke it was a low hiss through clenched teeth. He made the same argument over and over again. They are dastardly flirts, Byleth found it all boiled down to, which was not reason enough to change the schedule.

"You won't be changing my mind anytime soon, Seteth," Byleth finally said. The better part of the evening had been wasted listening to him fail to make a counterpoint. "Regardless of the students chore assignments, I need your assistance with the lance again."

"I still have more to say to you!"

"Then say it while we spar or the week will come and go without your knowing!" Byleth countered as she rose to her feet. A firm scowl spread across her face.

Seteth looked to the window to find long shadows cast over his desk. Soon candles would have to be lit in order to continue office work for Lady Rhea. He let out a defeated, if not disgruntled sigh. "I suppose you have a point, Professor."

Few had ever had the patience to outlast Seteth as the professor did. Byleth had his respect for it. A part of him wondered if she had riled him up simply to get a better fight out of him. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe she was wise enough to know he would not give up without a fight, proverbial or literal. 

Her expression softened as he stood to put away his day’s work. When he turned around again it was gone and her face held its typical blank expression. Seteth returned to her and offered a hand, which she took for balance as she stood. His mind may have been playing tricks on him, but it felt as though she held on a little longer than necessary.

“Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been fretting over this too much, so I'm posting it now rather than on Monday. The final chapter hasn't gotten the same treatment yet so hopefully I can be more patient with it.
> 
> This fic has gained so much traction in just 2 days! I'm thrilled to share more with everyone! Thanks so much for reading :D
> 
> I am looking to broaden my horizons, socially, and also I'm looking for more beta readers. I prefer talking through Discord Mergoat #9736 or Twitter /skeletalmergoat if anyone is interested! (edited to be correct)


	3. This Too Will Pass

Alois and Leonie came and went from Jeralt's old office a time or two. The former talked to himself a few times, loudly, and ran into Byleth once. He offered a hug and told her they were like siblings. His shoulder was for her to cry on, she need only ask.

But she wouldn't.

Leonie ran into Byleth only once and it was in the reception hall. The former apprentice yelled at her professor and called her ungrateful. Byleth walked away, wearing the same blank expression she always did as students, faculty, and guards alike watched in shock.

Insensitive. Seteth thought with a frown. Like the rest of the crowd, he did nothing and continued on his way to meet with some merchants.

It was not until halfway through the month that he stayed late at his office without noticing the time. Rarely did such a thing occur before this school year, but reports and investigations were many following Jeralt's death. The biggest concern was who would come to betray the monetary next and what on Sothis' remains would they do.

With a hefty sigh, Seteth resolved to stand and at least stretch his legs. He would need to have Cyril fetch more candles if he were to keep working late like this.

As he rounded his desk and stepped down the few stairs in his office, he noticed a shadow across the hall in Jeralt's unlit office. It was too small to be Alois', and far too quiet for his boisterous voice.

Leonie was out of the question as well. After her first few visits, she swore off visiting the central offices altogether. Even the library had been removed from her thoughts. Apparently so much as the stairs to the second floor held too many memories.

He took a step closer, then a few more until he was at the threshold of his own office. Seteth squinted. After reading reports all day, his eyes needed a moment to adjust.

"Byleth…?"

The figure in the dark turned to face him. Her moody blue hair caught between her shoulder and her neck as her gaze cast down at the floor. Candlelight from his office reflected into her equally blue eyes, glossy with tears. Instead of approaching Seteth, Byleth sat down in one of the leather chairs of the office of her fallen father.

Seteth retrieved one of the few fresh candles that remained in his desk and lit it before crossing the hallway and entering Jeralt's office. He set the light down on the desk before turning to Byleth.

Her gaze rested on her lap where she held a leather bound diary. It was safe to assume the diary was Jeralt's. "I've never cried before. Now it feels like the only thing I know how to do." Her voice was soft, but sound. Had Seteth not seen the tears in her eyes, he would not even know she had been crying.

There was truth in her words. The whole time he had known Byleth her expressions were few and far between. Her father had been the only constant she ever knew. It only made sense that his death would awaken such emotions in her.

"It is a shame we cannot turn back the hands of time and test fate," Seteth replied. He was uncertain if he should sit in one of the other chairs or stand by her side and perhaps smooth her hair from her face.

"I tried and fate remained the same," murmured the professor. 

Seteth wasn't certain what to make of her words. So he waved them off as sleepless banter and strode to her side. He smoothed her hair from her face as he thought to do moments ago and carefully chose what to say next. "The students… No, I…" He resolved to not distance himself from his feelings. "I care for you greatly. I know you are more than your grief, Byleth. Do not let it take over who you are," he said after much hesitation.

"Fate is unforgiving," said Byleth as though she were talking to someone Seteth couldn't see.

"Indeed," he agreed softly. 

The serenity that sometimes came with grief washed over the room. Silence spoke volumes for the two of them. Things unsaid, undisclosed, and hidden secrets all loudly unspoken crowded the room. Memories swept them each away from the moment with ease as they remembered those they had lost.

"Come along, it would do us both good to get some rest," Seteth insisted, breaking the wordless trance. As he waited for Byleth to rise from her seat, he gently coaxed her by running his fingers along her shoulder and back. "You owe it to your students…" Seteth stopped himself short. Again, it was time to own his feelings, as he was here for her in the now. "Do this for me, Byleth. Please."

It was then that she stood, only to lean into him. Her arms found their way around his waist and up his back. She tightly gripped the thick fabric as she buried her face in his chest. No longer was she tear ridden and sobbing, but Seteth was certain she was still wracked with sorrow.

He wrapped an arm around Byleth's back and allowed the other to brace her head against his chest. He could feel his heart thrum against her face, beating faster than normal. If the only comfort Seteth could provide was a beating heart, then so be it.

The two stood in the dim, flickering candlelight for some time. It was not until Byleth slumped into Seteth, then stumbled for her footing that they moved. "S-sorry," said Byleth. "I suppose I am more worn out than I thought."

"It appears so," Seteth replied. He was not so willing to let go of Byleth now that she had stumbled in his arms. No doubt, she found comfort and fallen asleep for just a moment. "Let me walk you to your room," insisted Seteth.

Byleth shook her head. "I don't want to keep you from your work," she argued, not willing to look him in the eyes. After much contemplation, they agreed on Byleth resting in a chair in his office while Seteth finished his paperwork.

When morning came flitting sunrise through the large window in the office, Byleth found he had given her a pillow and blanket to help make her rest more... restful. Silently she sat up and rubbed sleep from her eyes.

The scent of the blanket wafted to her nose. It smelled faintly of the sea, with a hint of some herb Byleth recognized but couldn't put a name to. As she brought the blanket for a better smell, Seteth entered the room. Her face reddened and she quickly placed her hands in her lap as though she had been caught red handed. But Seteth did not act as though he saw her nose buried in his blanket.

"Did you sleep alright?" He asked. He set the papers in his arms down at his desk before doubling back to sit at Byleth's side. 

"I did, thank you," she replied. "I'm sorry if I bothered you."

Seteth chuckled. He shook his head at her. "You did not bother me. I was worried for you," he admitted with ease. "Byleth, I want you to come to me if you do not feel at ease. You are not alone in this world, you are very dear to me."

Byleth buried her face in the blanket once more. This time, she recognized the herbs as rosemary and thyme. It only made sense that his spare blanket would smell of Flayn's favorite dish. She sighed at the thought and wondered if Seteth was a good cook.

"Ah, forgive me, this is no time for admissions. You are mourning after all," Seteth muttered seemingly to himself. Much like he did not notice her smell his belongings, Byleth did not think on his statement. "Why don't you wash up, then come speak to me when you have the chance?"

Byleth nodded and stood from her seat. "Thank you again, Seteth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I severely considered ending this a page early in my document, but also considered it wasn't long enough or a solid enough ending. I planned on this fic showing mutual pining/affection, but because it ends with ch 9, I didn't want it to end in romance. That felt really weird and super disrespectful to me, so I just didn't do it like that! I went the Silver Snow route, so I had no opportunity to romance Seteth pre time skip. That's where I see a lot of the real pining and romantic attraction will bloom and be more obvious. And yes, I already have ideas planned out for that!

**Author's Note:**

> My first post in months, so this is a little warm-up. I don't really remember writing this chapter, but this is to set up the final chapter in which Byleth is more expressive. I wanted to queue Seteth in on the fact that while Byleth isn't expressive, she does still feel.


End file.
